


Fated

by prototyping



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Action, Blood and Violence, Gen, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27797206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: Edelgard learns just how hard and far Dimitri’s obsession drives him.Written for the prompt “stabbed” for FE3H Whump Week.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Fated

How long had they been fighting?

Minutes, her building fatigue and aching bones proclaimed, but it felt so much longer. Maybe because she was _tired_ after five years, even if she had no right to be when she hadn’t faced half the battles many of her foot soldiers had, or maybe because the blood staining Gronder Field was so unnecessary. Maybe it was the pity sitting heavy in her gut as she faced the raving man before her, his rage blind and obsessive and his mind so far gone－or maybe it was her nerves, as frayed as they were knowing that even a shallow blow from his hands could kill her instantly.

This dance of theirs was a bloody one, dozens of blows traded and dodged while a few found their marks.

Edelgard stung in more places than she could count. Dimitri didn’t look much better despite his armor, the plates cracked and splattered with blood that could have been his, hers, or any of the number of soldiers he’d cut down on his way here. If he felt any pain, it had no bearing on the fury stretched tight over his scowl and burning in his gaze.

He sought her life with the kind of desperation that a dying man would flee for his own, forsaking technique for brute strength and forcing clumsy opportunities when there were none. Sometimes it was effective, sometimes it added to his injuries, but he never faltered either way.

Even when Edelgard tripped him up and managed to knock his Relic from his grasp, Dimitri surged forward like a flood and the air whistled as his fist narrowly missed her head. In the time it took her to twist away and take a couple steps back, he’d snatched a dead soldier’s lance from the grass and charged at her again.

He fought like a man possessed and she knew he would stop at nothing. Short of being killed or maimed beyond repair, he would keep coming, keep resisting, keep throwing his soldiers to the fire for any chance to get to her.

She needed to end this here and now.

They clashed again and again, his strength bearing down on her and her speed narrowly keeping her alive. She opened his left bicep with a slicing blow, he crumpled her shield beyond use with a swing that somehow didn’t shatter his spear on impact. She clipped his thigh. He missed with his jab at her chest, but the shaft of his lance struck her free hand on the backswing and everything beneath her wrist went numb. She could only hope it wasn’t broken.

As formidable as Dimitri’s strength was, his single-minded rage worked in her favor. His movements started to become predictable, or at least more manageable. When she felt confident enough, she pulled a feint and exposed her middle. He lunged for it like a hungry wolf after its prey and Edelgard countered, _barely_ , locking her axehead around his lance shaft and throwing all of her weight into one desperate, risky motion.

It worked. Dimitri stumbled. She kicked hard at the exposed back of his knee to aid in his fall, nearly tripping herself as she hurried to step behind him and out of his reach. By luck, their tangled weapons fell apart and in a heartbeat she had her blade against the side of his neck. Dimitri froze on his knees.

For a moment there was only their harsh breathing and her heartbeat thundering in her ears. The sounds of battle between the armies were distant.

“It’s over.” She was certain his mind was in no state to acknowledge his loss, but she wanted to try－not out of mercy as much as how fragile her advantage was. She would have to draw her arm back for a killing blow, which could be enough time for him to act. Better to at least try asking for a surrender.

He let out a low, rasping sound. She couldn’t tell whether it was a snarl or a laugh, but there was a bit of both in his voice when he answered, “So it is.”

Cold dread shot up her spine as her instincts screamed in warning. She moved, taking a step back to avoid his attack when he whirled around－

Except Dimitri didn’t turn around. She caught only a slight twitch of his shoulders and suddenly she couldn’t move－she was caught mid-step, her breath locked in her throat for some reason she couldn’t immediately deduce.

Her stomach hurt. It started as a small ache, and then soon flared into a throb, and then a burning sensation that made her eyes water. Slowly, she looked down.

A red shaft protruded from Dimitri’s back and pressed against her stomach.

No. It went _through_ her.

It was the shine of steel, slick with blood.

The pain intensified, now spreading all the way around her torso to her back. It must have pierced all the way through.

He had stabbed himself with his spear to get to her.

“You…”

Agony exploded inside her as he tore the blade out of them both. Before she knew it she was on her knees, clutching at the hole in her gut as warmth seeped between her fingers. Dimitri stood hunched in front of her, facing her now, his chest likewise losing blood at a lethal rate.

He was smiling, a dark and empty expression that didn’t reach the dead look in his bloodshot eye.

He reached forward and his large hand closed tight around her throat. Aymr lay useless at her side, her grip so weak with shock that the weapon might as well have weighed a ton.

Perhaps Dimitri was finally done with words, or maybe he had no strength left for them. His thumb forced her chin up and her head back so he could look into her face, but he gave no cutting remark, no arrogant declaration of victory, and no explanation for why his obsession with her ran so hot and deep, even now. He only stared at her, his manic grin fading rapidly into something more like a frown－the sort of frown she’d seen him wear at the academy once upon a time, troubled and uncertain rather than seething and hateful.

For a moment she dared to think he was having doubts.

And then, as strong as ever despite the life draining out of him, his fingers squeezed, surprisingly and mercifully quick, until she heard a muffled _snap_ －

“Lady Edelgard.”

She stirred from her thoughts with a mild start. She looked up to find Hubert watching her, his eyes narrowed in concern despite the hard line of his mouth.

Embarrassed, she sat up a little straighter on her throne and gave him a permissive nod. “Yes. You were saying?” When he hesitated, she realized she had her palm pressed against her stomach－where Dimitri had stabbed her in that fatal battle.

Except he hadn’t.

That exchange of blows had never come to pass. The two of them had fought on Gronder Field, but it ended when their professor－when Byleth leaped in to help the prince despite his snarls of protest, forcing Edelgard to retreat.

And yet, the memory of Dimitri piercing them both－the pain, the blood, his hot breath on her face and his grip breaking her neck－had lingered in her mind like a fog in the days after that. She had assumed it to be the remnants of a dream, even an exhausted hallucination, except it had continued to sharpen and grow clearer until it was as vivid as any other memory of hers. More so, even.

But there was no scar on her stomach, no bruises on her throat. No sign that any of it had happened. Nothing to say she wasn’t simply going mad.

Perhaps she was.

Clearing her throat, Edelgard smoothed the front of her dress absently, as if it were really so easy to fool Hubert. His expression confirmed that it wasn’t, but he respected her silence and didn’t pry.


End file.
